The Richest Man in London
by Lord Onisyr
Summary: On Christmas Eve, Sebastian gives his self-loathing master a rare gift: seeing a world in which he had never been born. Inspired by "It's a Wonderful Life."
1. Part 1

**The Richest Man in London**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Yana Toboso and Square Enix, Co. Ltd. I don't own them; I just examine all their possibilities. Storyline inspired by "It's a Wonderful Life," directed by Frank Capra.

**Part 1**

The tree would be the first thing Ciel saw when turning the corner. The majestic branches of the evergreen draped with white lace garland, a red bow tied at the end of each. Mother contributed a few clear glass angels and hearts and father inherited a set of gilded pinecones that always went on the tree. There would always be frosted gingerbread men, the cook would make them special on Christmas Eve; Ciel would supervise this process of course. He needed to make sure the gingerbread was at optimum sweetness, though his job would usually end with a stomach ache. Father would joke that he would grow up to be an expert in quality control.

No matter how long the tree had been up or what contributions had been made when, it was the moment on Christmas morning when he ran to the top of the stairs when everything came together. He would always stop and look at the tree in awe. He would hear Tanaka catch up with him and then look down at the brightly wrapped packages underneath. Mother and father would be sitting on the couch in their nightclothes greeting him with warm smiles.

The recollection would then turn to walls of flames and screaming; mother and father's happy faces burned off to reveal charred skulls.

Ciel looked back down at the ledger on his desk and rubbed his forehead to distract himself from where this was going. The glowing candles and red berries in his peripheral vision called to him again. He really didn't want to look up but he did anyway, seeing the small fir adorned with red ribbon and dried berries, a pretty gold star on the top glowing with the reflected candles.

He said he didn't want a tree this year; he was going to be spending Christmas in London on business. His townhouse was too cramped for a tree anyway and he would be leaving too soon for it to be worth the effort. Naturally, none of that would have been an issue for Sebastian though he thought he made himself clear. He was barely in the house for two hours and the first thing he saw when leaving his office was this small, trimmed tree. A much larger version awaited in the lounge downstairs, not to mention the candles in the windows and carefully placed wreathes in the hallways.

"Come now, young master, a little Christmas cheer is good for one's health," Sebastian said with one of his pleasant smiles.

He probably did it to torture him, though Ciel didn't put it past him to actually enjoy this festive nonsense. A demon in the human world was like a mischievous kid in some ways; always exploring and latching onto the cutest most simple things, causing trouble every step of the way. No, he did it to torture him; the tree was right across from the doorway to his office, it was almost impossible to pretend it wasn't there. Out of all the places to set it up, the bastard chose that one.

Ciel averted his gaze and turned his attention back to the paperwork on the desk, though the cream-colored envelope sitting among the white papers commanded his attention again. Sebastian delivered it to him yesterday morning, though only required one reading and was a done matter. He should have just tossed it in the file with the rest of the Queen's messages, though he still read it over a few times.

_My darling little boy,_

_I hope this Christmas season finds you well and in good spirits. That is why it pains me to deliver some bad news: I must cancel my soiree on Christmas Eve. I am sure Grey briefed you on that group of Scottish separatists we have been keeping an eye on. We received some intelligence that they were planning something for Christmas Eve, what exactly we don't know; the matter is very much in flux. I felt it was best to err on the side of caution given the unfolding nature of these events. Grey will be paying you a visit on Boxing Day when matters have been more settled. I am so sorry, sweetie, and I apologize for causing you this much trouble but I promise to make it up to you soon. I do hope you have a very Merry Christmas. Make sure that butler of yours doesn't spare the pudding, my orders._

_-Victoria_

He had practically memorized it by now, reinforcing how his plans for Christmas Eve were essentially blown at the last minute. Such was the nature of things, Ciel told himself that over and over. He was somewhat looking forward to the small gathering if only for the chance to catch up on gossip and enjoy Her Majesty's company. The cancellation of the event in itself was a mere disappointment, that was all it was supposed to be.

Ciel looked back up at the Christmas tree, its candles and red bows seemed to glare at him. How he had come to hate Christmas. His cursed birthday was a little over a week before, convenient the alleged happiest time of the year fell right after. Every carol, light, and bow was another stab. Joyous holiday season? What the bloody hell did he have to be joyous about?

He turned away as a black figure blocked out those taunting happy lights. Ciel went back to his paperwork and tried to ignore Sebastian walking through the door, though he was pleased to see the tea tray and a luscious looking cake from the corner of his eye.

"Here is your tea, my lord," Sebastian said, putting the tray on a blank spot on the desk avoiding any papers. "Today I have prepared for you a rich Darjeeling blend with a hint of cinnamon and ginger with a chocolate spice cake covered in a chocolate ganache."

Ciel glanced up and looked at the delicious presentation, though the smell of cinnamon and spices twisted his nerve a little further. He looked at the tray and then looked at Sebastian, who held a polite smile. He then noticed the holly sprig pinned to his lapel.

"Fitting for the holidays, of course," he said. "It is Christmas Eve after all."

"Indeed," Ciel said dourly. "Remind me again why a demon celebrates the birth of Christ?"

Sebastian chuckled as he raised the pot high and poured a stream of spice-infused tea into the cup.

"If this holiday is a gem of Christendom, it is a stolen one or at least permanently borrowed," Sebastian said. "I have seen versions of this lovely tree and these handsome wreathes since before Christ was even a concept. So many lands have celebrated the solstice, or their own gods, or simply the spirit of debauchery and drunkenness. There were so many parties, oh such revelry."

"Oh such feasting," Ciel said.

Sebastian merely smiled, picking up the small tongs to put a few sugar cubes into the steaming cup.

"Speaking of which, how long are we going to be free of our prince and his butler?" Ciel said.

"I believe they will be at the Benevolent Shepherd Mission until late this evening," Sebastian said. "Agni said something to the effect of 'Prince Soma's great humility has called him to feed the poor on this joyous English holiday.'"

Ciel rolled his eyes and took up the cup.

"On that same subject, you are scheduled to make an appearance at St. Charles Home tomorrow morning for the toy donation," Sebastian said. "Tomorrow evening you are expected at the Marquis Middleford's gathering. I said this morning, your schedule for tonight is clear. Will there be any revisions to those plans."

Ciel picked up the cup and smelled the contents before taking a sip in silence. It was a good tea, maybe this didn't have to be all bad.

"And as I said this morning, I declined all my invitations in anticipation of the Queen's party tonight," Ciel said. "Christmas Eve is a little late to be making any plans."

"I do recall there were quite a few open invitations for some small gatherings in London," Sebastian said. "I did keep the list. It is only 4 o'clock, you have a short window of time to announce your presence."

Ciel sighed hard and rested his forehead on two fingers. Many nobles liked to hold informal gatherings as opposed to stuffy, stated parties. These could range from quiet teas to riotous affairs. He could only hear Madam Red yammering to Lau or anyone else in the room about the drunken debauchery that happened at her last Christmas party, narratives marked by her shrill laugh and the occasional inclusion of "I'll save your young ears from all the ghastly details, nephew."

There hadn't been a gathering last year and there would not be one this year; her butler and pet reaper…no Madam Red herself put an end to that. If she hadn't killed those prostitutes and associated with that monster she might have enjoyed more Christmases.

The thought floated through for the hundredth time, he tried to keep it from passing but in his current state it could not be helped; he was the one responsible. He was the one who caught her and confronted her; she dropped her blade at the last moment and died protecting him. He tried to shut out the image of her body flying through the air in a spray of blood.

He was the reason for much of her torment:

"I wish that someone like you had never been born!"

"Young master?"

Sebastian's voice shook him from his musing. He looked up to see his butler gazing at him with a sad look. Ciel's eyes narrowed.

"I am not in the mood for any parties," he said, putting his cup on the desk with a thud, a few drops of tea flying over the brim. "In fact tell Uncle Alexis I have taken ill. And don't say anything about my reputation, it's nobody's damn business why I'm staying home."

He looked back up at Sebastian who continued to stare at him, the corners of his mouth tightening.

"Are you all right, sir?" Sebastian asked. "I know you are not overly fond of the Christmas holiday, though I sense something more is troubling you."

He glared at Sebastian, but relaxed his gaze a bit. Ciel raised his cup again and took a few more sips.

"You are right, Sebastian," Ciel said. "I am not overly fond of this holiday at all, in fact I quite dislike it. I have no reason to be merry this year, you know that."

"It has been a year of misadventure, perhaps a bit more intense than before," Sebastian said with a sigh.

Over a year since Aunt An's funeral, almost a year since Noah's Ark Circus…almost a year since he exposed another madman killing more people, killing children. And why? What brought Baron Kelvin to do such heinous deeds? Would those children be alive today if Kelvin had never set foot in the Phantomhive manor? Would those children be alive today if he had never…

"Death, intrigue, suffering, that's what I have to look forward to every year," Ciel said. "And every year I'm expected to put that all aside, put up a pretty tree, and go to a bunch of parties."

"You do bear a burden, my lord, but it is a noble one," Sebastian said. "The Queen has put her trust in her faithful watchdog and you have removed her burdens and those of England most ably."

Silver-tongued snake. It was hardly helping.

"Anyone could do what I'm doing," Ciel said. "She has countless other evil nobles at her disposal. My family just happened to receive this curse."

"Are you saying you grow weary of this burden?" Sebastian said.

Ciel sighed hard and dropped his elbows on the desk. He didn't know what he wanted.

"No, it is my curse to bear," he said, resting his forehead in his hands. "Maybe I…maybe the world would be so much better off if I'd never been born."

Sebastian quietly gasped.

"Better for my family, better for everyone; maybe people would still be alive today if I never existed," Ciel said.

"Oh, young master," Sebastian said with a deep sigh.

Ciel took a few deep breaths. This was ridiculous talk, utter nonsense but he could not help it. The sound of his breathing was the only noise in the room. He knew Sebastian was still standing there staring at him.

Sebastian gave a harder sigh.

"If that is indeed your wish," he said.

Ciel's right eye pulsed with a burning pain. He cried out and yanked his eye patch off, clutching his eye. A wave of cold washed over him and permeated everything. The pain suddenly diminished and disappeared entirely. Ciel still clutched his head, registering the sudden chill in the air. He slowly pried his hand away and looked at Sebastian only to see a dim outline of him in the pitch darkness save for glowing purple eyes. Not a single light was on in the townhouse; the lamp at his desk, the Christmas candles, the numerous lamps in the hallway, all of them snuffed out.

"What the hell did you do," Ciel said.

"Granting you your wish," Sebastian said, his smirk less jolly and more appropriately menacing. "Consider it a Christmas gift."

Ciel stared at him for a second in disbelief, Sebastian's smile widened.

"You have never been born, you don't exist," Sebastian said. "You are hereby cleared of all your obligations, all your burdens. Any damage done by your existence has been corrected."

Ciel jumped up from his chair and stumbled through the dark to the hallway. The soft glow of a lamp suddenly appeared behind him and allowed him to reach the small mirror. He looked in the glass, seeing Sebastian behind him holding the lamp closer to him.

Both his eyes were a brilliant blue, the contract mark in his right eye was gone. He stood for a moment, starting to shake. Sebastian appeared behind him in the mirror illuminated by the lamp in his left hand. Sebastian gently bit the middle fingertip of his right glove and lifted it off with his teeth. The back of his hand was bare flesh; no contract mark.

"You bastard!" Ciel said, whipping around to face his smirking butler.

"I cannot make a contract with a soul that does not exist," Sebastian said. "If I may show you one more thing."

Ciel's eyes widened again, he knew what he was referring to. Ciel tore his jacket off and untucked his shirt, starting to lift it as Sebastian grabbed the bottom of the shirt and pulled it up further. The brand mark on his side was gone, blank flesh was all that could be seen. Ciel stood quivering for a moment, and then yanked his shirt back down and glared at Sebastian.

"Do you believe me now?" Sebastian said, leaning down to pick up Ciel's coat from the floor.

Ciel tucked his shirt back in, his glare fixed on Sebastian.

"How is this possible," Ciel said.

"You underestimate my abilities, young master," Sebastian said, his red eyes glowing purple for a second. "I am a little more than one hell of a butler, after all."

Ciel's eyes narrowed but his shaking stilled.

"What are you playing at," Ciel said.

"Can the young master humor me at least?"

Sebastian's smirk annoyed him, though it was best to play along for the moment and find out what the hell happened.

"Fine, I've never been born," Ciel said.

"Excellent," Sebastian said. He pulled his watch from his pocket and opened it, looking down at the time. "Might I suggest we get going before the hour is too late."

"Going where?"

Sebastian gently touched Ciel's shoulder and a mass of shadows washed over them. Ciel cried out, but his voice was muted by the chilling cold and total darkness.


	2. Part 2

**The Richest Man in London**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Yana Toboso and Square Enix, Co. Ltd. I don't own them; I just examine all their possibilities. Storyline inspired by "It's a Wonderful Life," directed by Frank Capra.

**Part 2**

The shadows suddenly parted with a burst of wind, revealing a street bustling with people. Ciel looked up to see Sebastian standing right beside him.

"We could have just walked out the door," he said.

"This method is a little more convenient," Sebastian said.

"A little more visible too."

"Don't concern yourself with that. You don't exist and I am merely creeping the earth in shadows; no one will notice our presence."

Ciel turned back to the street and walked forward, hearing Sebastian's footsteps behind him. Ciel caught sight of a man slipping a hand into someone's pocket in front of him. Screams caught his attention and he suddenly got a close-up of a man beating a small boy with a cane. A few men and women in a group on another street corner were visibly intoxicated and sharing a bottle of wine between them. A couple was walking the street and approached in the open by a man with a knife demanding their money.

Typical nonsense, though it was happening a bit more openly. One thing he realized was he did not see was the blue coats and domed hats of the regular police patrol.

"Are all bobbies out on holiday?" Ciel said.

"No, unfortunately, the police are already spread thin," Sebastian said. "There haven't been any significant recruitment efforts in years."

"I personally advised the Queen of this problem two years ago, I gave her a mound of paper and photographic evidence of the need for stepped-up patrols."

"And just how was that possible?"

Ciel rolled his eyes.

"Oh right, I was never born, hence the conversation never happened," Ciel said. "So that was my major contribution to the world? A pity for humanity."

Ciel continued down the street, reaching one familiar storefront; a gray sign emblazoned with a skull reading "Undertaker" hung over the door. Ciel looked in the window, suddenly finding himself in the dark, cold space reeking of rotting corpses and chemicals. He took a step and slammed the side of his foot against a coffin. He yelped and hastily covered his mouth, seeing the proprietor leaning into a coffin on a wooden mount. Undertaker never noticed anything, his long fingernails gently working through the blonde hair of a young woman.

"Oh aren't you a pretty one," Undertaker cooed.

Ciel shivered, then looked to the floor. Several coffins were lined up across the gray planks, some stacked on each other in twos with a couple stacks of three.

"Undertaker," Ciel called.

Undertaker didn't turn his head, only lowering his face into the coffin and lightly rubbing his nose over the corpse's face.

"So much more beautiful in death," Undertaker said, his lips caressing her cheek.

"Ugh, disgusting," Ciel said, looking up at Sebastian

"No one can hear you, remember," Sebastian said, looking away from the display before them.

"What happened," Ciel said. "I have never seen this many corpses in his shop before."

"Business has been quite good in the past few years," Sebastian said.

Ciel nodded and groaned.

"An increase in murders, probably suicides with a few extra dead drunks thrown in; I see where this is going," Ciel said. "Undertaker is probably making a tidy profit from all this. My lack of existence has indeed had its benefits."

"Indeed," Sebastian said, his smiling face once again covered in the wave of shadows over everything.

The shadows parted to a large room adorned with Chinese screens and tapestries. Ciel coughed with the cloud of incense and opium that rushed at him. He got control of his lungs to focus on the usual small compartments, at least two people in every one, sometimes three.

The proprietor of this establishment reclined in his usual couch at the front of the room with the usual woman practically curled on his lap and smiling wider than usual.

"Harder times mean more need for distractions," Ciel said. "Lau is certainly benefiting."

Ciel took a closer look at each compartment, most were dressed down or in common clothing; men and women in varying stages of dishevelment. He took a closer look at some of the patrons and saw what looked like children his age. His gaze focused back at the sheer number of them, the house was practically full.

"Pathetic all of them," Ciel said.

"Yes," Sebastian said. "The Queen has had little insight into the world of Chinese opium dens, she is unaware how widespread drug use has become. After all, Lau and his cohorts are merely a dirty Chinaman to most of her muscle and naturally Lau and his cohorts think even less of any of the Queen's watchmen."

Ciel frowned and glanced at Sebastian.

"Not my fault they chose to ruin their lives," Ciel said. "This was an underworld matter that was coming more to the surface of polite society, she has every reason to be informed. Saving souls is hardly my business."

"It is as you say," Sebastian said. "Care for a change of scenery?"

The shadows washed over them again; the air taking a sharp chill, the smell of incense and opium giving way to a more pleasant odor of wood smoke. The shadows parted to reveal another street in London lined with magnificent townhouses with wide yards. The sound of hooves and carriage wheels caught Ciel's attention. A grand carriage pulled up to the curb in front of one white townhouse adorned with wooden decorative pieces in the shape of green leaves near the roof.

The door of the house opened and a man practically jumped down the steps. Ciel took a closer look and grimaced.

"Oh God, this is Druitt's house," Ciel said.

The Viscount was dressed in a black coat but wore a normal black tie instead of his usual cravat, his hair surprisingly combed back. His prancing slowed on the walkway and he approached the carriage with a pseudo-distinguished gait. The carriage driver stepped down from his perch, Ciel caught a brief glimpse of his face over the high collar of his cloak and under his top hat, thinking he looked somewhat familiar.

The driver then lowered the step and opened the carriage door. A woman with graying blonde hair in a fine dress stepped out, Ciel's stomach dropped.

"My dear Marchioness, how delightful it is to see you," Druitt said.

"I certainly hope this house is much cleaner than it was when we were here last," the Marchioness Middleford said, stepping from the carriage.

A small pair of boots with white ribbon laces descended next. Ciel wanted to retch.

Lizzy stepped down from the carriage wearing a more severe-looking blue dress, Druitt lightly stepped to her and went on one knee. The look of discomfort on Lizzy's face made Ciel's blood boil.

"My beautiful robin," Druitt said, taking her hand. "My lovely future bride."

"I'll kill him!" Ciel yelled running forward, only to be yanked back by Sebastian.

"You couldn't if you tried," Sebastian said.

Lizzy curtseyed.

"Merry Christmas, Lord Druitt," Lizzy said. There was no bubbly joy in her voice, no childish ramblings. Ciel only heard sadness.

"My you look lovelier by the day," Druitt said, kissing her hand. "I dream of the day we shall be married, seeing you in a lovely white dress."

"Which isn't going to be for a very long while, longer still if you don't stop this silliness," the Marchioness said.

Druitt jumped to his feet and bowed.

"My apologies, I became a little carried away," Druitt said.

The Marchioness sighed hard.

"Well you have considerably reformed yourself, I will give you that much," she said. "I wouldn't have let you look at Elizabeth otherwise."

"My lady, I will do what I can to be a suitable husband for your darling girl," Druitt said.

Ciel jerked forward again, Sebastian's iron grip keeping him in place.

"You promised Lizzy to that bastard!"

"He is nobility," Sebastian said. "Aside from whispers about him being a bit of a rake, his reputation is solid. A licensed physician, a well-respected man of society, he is also financially stable plus he frequents some of the same circles as the Middleford's. The Marquis Middleford found him a suitable husband for his daughter; Elizabeth might be happier with a free-spirited man who is like a child himself in some ways. The Marchioness took a little while to warm up, though the Viscount has apparently cleaned himself up considerably thanks to her scrutiny."

"But this man was arrested for human trafficking, Uncle Alexis has to know that," Ciel said.

"No, the Viscount's record is clean," Sebastian said. "No one in society ever discovered his crimes, remember?"

Ciel froze and started to shake. He was the one who infiltrated the Viscount's party; would anyone else have discovered his crimes and had enough status for the authorities to believe the accusations?

Druitt put his hand back down to Elizabeth and she meekly took it. Ciel focused on her sad expression before she turned around and walked with Druitt up the path.

"Oh God this is just sickening," Ciel said.

He shook free of Sebastian's grip, though walked away from Druitt's house. This was impossible, there was no way Druitt managed to thaw out Aunt Frances enough to let him have Lizzy. Impossible, or perhaps her family was that desperate to have her married. She had no cousin to make the arrangement with, perhaps her family was that adamant.

"Constable you need to find that savage and toss him in a hole somewhere."

A man's voice caught Ciel's attention; a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. Ciel looked up, seeing he was suddenly in a different neighborhood. The houses were less extravagant, though still worth much. Somehow this neighborhood looked rather familiar. He did hear the barks of several large dogs close by, his memory becoming a bit more refreshed.

A bobby stood right next to a rather dodgy-looking man in a nice suit in front of one house. Ciel took a better look: Harold West, the unscrupulous trader from the curry competition. A woman in Indian dress, Meena leaned against his arm with tears in her eyes. This was all making too much sense.

"That bastard tried to get on my property to harass my wife," West said.

"You have to catch him, he is crazed," Meena sobbed. "Spoiled little brat who won't listen to reason."

"That's right, constable," West added. "I don't want to think on what he would have done if I didn't have dogs here. My man is chasing after him now, you should catch up with him."

"Now calm down sir, give me a description of this miscreant," the bobby said.

Ciel knew exactly who it was, and who his "man" was.

"They're talking about Soma," Ciel said. "The idiot just barged in didn't he."

"Yes," Sebastian said from behind him.

And he found Meena…and Agni with West. The implications of this made Ciel's blood run cold.

"I suppose we should see where he's gone to," Sebastian said.

Shadows surrounded them again and they reappeared in a grubbier section of town. The usual street banter was pierced by Agni's voice screaming Soma's name. Agni ran past Ciel, practically knocking him over while calling for Soma. Ciel ran after him, hearing Sebastian's footsteps behind him.

Agni got ahead of him by several meters, though Ciel just needed to follow his voice and his footsteps in the mud. The yelling faded, leaving Ciel running in the general direction of Agni's fresh footprints. The prints stopped at a building where a few other Indians congregated outside smoking pipes and talking. Ciel passed by them without any effort, but then Sebastian said they were both immaterial; he could have passed through them if he wanted. He found himself in a cramped lobby, a blood-curdling scream from up the rickety stairs drew his attention. He ran up the stairs to the second floor, following the screaming and crying to a room at the end of the hall. Without a thought he shoved against the door with his shoulder and indeed passed through it like a ghost.

Agni was on his knees, his head buried in his hands and bloody tears streaming down. Ciel then looked up and screamed; Soma Asman Kadar was dangling by the neck from a rope tied to a rafter on the ceiling, an overturned stool sat a short distance over. His eyes were closed but his face was ash white, his neck taking an unnatural angle. A hand suddenly cupped over Ciel's eyes and pulled him back. Ciel pried Sebastian's hand off and tripped forward, eyes turning to the hysterical Agni practically prostrate on the floor.

"My…M-my prince," Agni sobbed. "What have I done? What have I done!"

His cries turned to wails. Ciel looked back at Sebastian, who looked on the scene with a frown.

"A pity for Soma, he had no one to turn to when he found Agni betrayed him," Sebastian said. "A pity Agni never had the chance to explain his reasoning."

"And he found Meena in the same moment," Ciel said with a sigh.

Agni came back to his knees.

"I have betrayed you, my prince," he said, a hand going inside his robe. "I am not worthy to share your fate, but I am a more fitting sacrifice."

Agni pulled out a long knife and aimed the point at his chest.

"Agni no!" Ciel cried.

He shoved the blade through his body with a gasp, blood pouring out from the wound and flowing from his mouth. Sebastian cupped his hand around Ciel's eyes again and yanked him away. Ciel fought his grip, but Sebastian only clutched him tighter. He suddenly let go, causing Ciel to run across the room.

The room was empty now; no bodies, no linens, only an empty bed and a hollow space. Ciel stood for a moment, his mouth hanging open.

"This is what this room looks like today," Sebastian said. "What we saw were year-old shadows. The landlord eventually evicted all of the Indian boarders, saying they were too dangerous. Many families were tossed into the streets."

Ciel rubbed his face and took deep breaths.

"I've seen enough, Sebastian take me home," Ciel said.

Sebastian paused and gazed at him for a moment wearing a deepening frown.

"As you wish," Sebastian said.


	3. Part 3

**The Richest Man in London**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Yana Toboso and Square Enix, Co. Ltd. I don't own them; I just examine all their possibilities. Storyline inspired by "It's a Wonderful Life," directed by Frank Capra.

**Part 3**

The room filled with shadows and piercing chill, the shadows suddenly clearing but the chill remained. Ciel looked to see his feet buried in the wet grass, his breath a thick cloud in the night air. There were no buildings around nor any lights in the distance, just an empty, sloping landscape barely illuminated by a waxing moon. He looked at it more carefully, able to make out piles of wood and the remains of a set of marble steps on top of a small hill.

Ciel took careful steps forward that turned into a run. The closer he got and the more familiar this place became. He stopped at the top of the hill, able to make out a silhouette of the charred shell of a once-grand building. He heard the hiss of a match beside him and the area lit up with a faint glow. Sebastian stepped forward carrying a small torch that burned with the light of a small campfire, further revealing the wreckage. The crumbling remains were covered in vines and the shoots of a few small trees.

Ciel stood and stared at the rubble, his heart pounding in his chest; the memories from three years ago coming back to him. This was how he found his manor upon returning for the first time, but he was looking on this now. The realization made Ciel's legs grow weak and give, his knees planting into the wet ground.

It was never rebuilt. The overgrowth of ivy and saplings were shoots through his heart. The fire had been set anyway and mother and father were still killed, though who would seek revenge for them? Who would rebuild this manor and take up father's work? No one apparently.

"This is a forgotten land possessed by an empty title," Sebastian said. "Earl Phantomhive and his wife had no children. The Queen and her advisors are still trying to locate a male heir though their search has turned up nothing. In truth, it is likely the Queen doesn't have the heart to replace her tragically departed watchdog."

Ciel closed his eyes for a moment. He was the one who ordered Sebastian to rebuild the manor. What would have happened if he were never able to claim the title and these lands?

"What of Tanaka?" Ciel asked.

An image floated in his mind of a set of headstones; mother and father were buried in their usual place with the same marker. He also saw the stone a short distance away listing the names of the servants killed in the fire, the vision focusing on one plaque: "Hideyoshi Tanaka."

His vision returned to the ground.

"And what of our servants?"

A series of images took over his mind. Bard with a hood over his head blown back by a firing squad. Maylene poised with a rifle on top of a building, the back of her head exploding with a shot fired from a distance away. A single vision of Finny's body grossly engorged before being zipped up in a body bag, a man's voice saying "Yet another failed experiment." A child Snake was a bloody pile on the ground underneath many clubs wielded by school-age boys yelling "freak!"

Ciel let out a loud grunt and beat the ground.

"Fetching them was your project, not mine!" he yelled.

"Under your command," Sebastian said. "Every action you have taken has had consequences."

"My very being has had consequences, that was the whole point of this!"

"And your nonexistence, as you have seen, has had some rather grave consequences."

Ciel took a few breaths. This was emotional blackmail.

"What of Kelvin, what of the circus, what of those stolen children? I can imagine the consequences were a bit better. Maybe not for Snake, but for the rest of the children he kidnapped."

"Oh yes, the noble children survived. I cannot say the same for the performers, by now all of them died in the slums like Snake. They died of hunger or disease, murdered in the street, kidnapped, raped, sold as slaves, all because Kelvin never rescued them."

Ciel grabbed his hair and gritted his teeth.

"Are you so arrogant to think your existence has been the greatest burden on the world?" Sebastian said. "Out of all men, you have had the greatest reasons for sinful hubris; you have saved lives, brought favorable outcomes even if the results were ultimately bloody. Instead your hubris has been in the sheer lamentation of your existence, you believe the world is so cursed by your presence, that you are the worst thing that can happen to anyone. I have some ill news for you then; energy and fate all take the path of least resistance. Remember, young master, every human will have their appointment with a reaper; it is only a matter of when."

Ciel's eyes widened.

"Reaper," he said softly.

He pushed himself off the ground and forced himself to a stand despite his trembling legs. That very word made him shake with the thought of what he had to ask. The potential answer frightened him but he had to know.

"Sebastian, Madam Red," Ciel said. "Where is Madam Red?"

Silence lingered. Ciel looked at Sebastian, seeing another sad frown.

"Sebastian I order you, tell me where Aunt An is!"

The wind picked up and shadows gathered, though soon dissipated. The landscape actually lightened; Ciel looked to see they were standing on another street in London in the daylight.

"Extra, extra, read all about it!" the voice of a newsboy chimed from a few meters away. "Lady Ripper sent to asylum! Murdering doctor sent to Broadmoor!"

Ciel ran to the newsboy and ripped a paper from his stack, unnoticed as usual. People gathered around and handed him their money, standing and reading the paper with looks of horror and disgust.

"How ghastly!"

"Inconceivable!"

"What has this world come to!"

"That's the problem with letting women into medicine, they can't control themselves."

"She was nobility too, how disgraceful."

"You never know who is capable of this. Even the pretty lady at your parties."

"I hear she was a prostitute herself and she killed her rivals."

Ciel stared at the headline for a moment trying not to retch until something caught his attention.

"Lady Ripper sent to asylum: woman doctor murdered 17 prostitutes."

"Hang on, 17? She and that reaper only killed nine!" Ciel said.

"No, you caught them after their ninth," Sebastian said. "Mary Kelly was only the halfway point; she sought after more and more. Instead of killing one a month, she was killing two a month. After the 15th one that idiot Abberline saw the pattern, it took one more to nail it down. She was caught by a whole squadron, bloody knife in hand over her last victim, alone in the room with the body."

"Alone?" Ciel said.

"Alone," Sebastian said. "Scotland Yard initially looked for Grell Sutcliff for information, thinking her butler might have known something. Alas they believe he either quickly skipped off or killed himself, but in the end they didn't need him. They found enough evidence to get a clean conviction; she had the means, motive, and opportunity to kill all those women and the medical knowledge to do what she did."

Ciel skimmed the article, practically reading everything Sebastian said. He opened his mouth to bring up that Madam Red had an alibi at Druitt's party, but then smoking out Druitt at the party was his idea. The moment the police got a solid lead on Madam Red, it was unlikely they would search for an accomplice in the shadows. Grell Sutcliff surely wouldn't stick around to face any human authority.

"She had an able barrister who kept her from the noose, he argued she was in a constant state of hysterics after the tragedies in her life and had a team of medical experts back up his claims," Sebastian said. "Of course all the sordid details were reported in court and the press took the story from there."

Ciel threw the paper back on the pile and resisted the urge to kick it over. He was but one of her regrets, nothing else prevented the rest. Out of all the thoughts that lead her to kill those women, a cursed nephew was not one of them. She would have done it anyway.

She was alive at Broadmoor, but it was likely they threw her in a cell and threw away the key. He couldn't decide which would have been a worse sentence: death or life in a place like that.

"I want to see her," Ciel said, facing Sebastian.

"If you truly loved your aunt, you will not want to see her in such a state," Sebastian said.

"Sebastian, this is an order!"

"An order?" Sebastian said. "You have no grounds to order me, remember. I have obliged you thus far and you're starting to try my patience."

Insufferable bastard! He did have a point, a contract could not exist if there was no soul to make it with. No, there was something more going on; something Sebastian did not want to show him.

"Sebastian…" Ciel's voice trailed off as he caught his breath. "Sebastian please. I need to see her."

Sebastian looked at him for a moment with a frown. He finally sighed and put is hand to his chest.

"Yes, my lord."

Old habits die hard apparently.

The shadows poured in again, shooting upward and dissipating to reveal a long, dark hallway lined with iron doors. All was a hollow quiet sometimes interrupted by the loud clopping of footsteps or the occasional piercing scream. Ciel took a moment to gain his bearings in a place like this before turning to Sebastian.

"This way," Sebastian said, walking forward.

Ciel followed, hearing no steps from their own feet on the floor. A uniformed nurse walked by, as usual paying no attention. Her focus was likely on the scream that came from another end of the hall.

"What a godforsaken place," Ciel said.

Sebastian said nothing, not even looking back at him. They walked to the end of the hallway, Sebastian then stopped by one door and stepped aside. Ciel slowly approached the door, a small window was just within his height. He stood on the tips of his toes and opened the window without hesitation, he had to see what became of her.

He took a look into the gray padded cell. A woman sat in the middle of the floor in a dingy white robe, her red hair chopped off to ragged stubble. Her face was unadorned and sickly white yet still had some naturally fair features. A moment later, Ciel realized she was right in front of him; he was not looking at her through the door, he was in the cell with her.

Madam Red's knees were pulled up to her chest, she stared at the floor making no other movements save for her breathing and the occasional blink. Ciel stood and stared at her.

"I'm sorry, Aunt An," he said.

"Gray does nothing for you, my lady."

Ciel let out a sharp gasp at the sound of that familiar, dainty voice. He whipped around, thinking of every horrible curse he could throw but his jaw was clenched too tightly to let any words out. A figure passed through the door like a ghost; long red hair trailing behind him, one black-gloved finger adjusting his red-rimmed glasses by the bridge. Grell Sutcliff was actually wearing his black coat; perhaps he never pilfered hers.

Madam Red's face shot up in his direction and her arms dropped behind her to brace herself against the floor.

"Grell!" she said, her voice hoarse. "Oh God, Grell, it's really you!"

He put a finger to his lips.

"You are the only one who can see or hear me, but everyone in this hellhole can hear you," Grell said. "You wouldn't want to look mad, would you?"

He gave a shrill giggle that made Ciel's hair stand on end. His smile straightened as he took another step toward her, his upper lip curled to expose his pointed teeth. Ciel swore he saw a hint of sadness.

"It breaks my heart to see you this way, my love" Grell said, putting a hand to his chest. "Such a beautiful, proud woman; what has become of her?"

Tears poured down Angelina's face and she whimpered.

"Grell, please, get me out of here," she whispered, a hand grabbing his red boot. "I will give you anything."

"I want nothing from you, my lady," he said, running his fingers over the spikes of her hair. "You have nothing to give now, all of it was taken."

She leaned her face against his leg and sobbed harder.

"And why is that?" he continued, gently stroking her hair, but his touch stiffened. "Because you got clumsy, my dear. This intelligent, wily woman became her own downfall. I was willing to do anything for you, but I never intended to save you." He grabbed a clump of her hair and yanked her head up to face him. "You know that."

Ciel could only stare at this scene. He wanted to scream at the reaper: get her out of here, if you love her then free her. It would have been wasted breath. Even if she were free, where could she go? Grell would inevitably be found by his higher-ups, who knew what punishment would befall him and what would happen to her. Ciel seriously doubted he would be willing to give up his immortality and powers for a murderess who really only amused him for a time.

His grip loosened and he went back to patting her hair.

"But I will show you mercy, madam," he said.

Grell took a step back, practically kicking off her grip and sending her spilling to the floor. He reached behind his back, his death scythe appearing in his hand.

"You know you will never leave here," Grell said. "Death is a more preferable fate, wouldn't you agree?"

She sobbed harder.

"I'll make it quick, I've set it so you will only look like you passed on naturally," he said, taking the scythe in both hands. One hand moved to the drawstring that started its motor. "I can be a kindly woman when I feel like it."

Ciel looked up at Sebastian, who watched the scene with an even expression. Madam Red crawled back to a sit. She sobbed but craned her neck upward, her head falling back slightly to expose her throat; she was ready for this.

"Farewell, Madam Red," Grell said, stepping forward. "Let us close the curtain on this farce that is your life."

The scythe suddenly flew from his hands, the blade sticking in the padding. Grell let out a yelp and looked at the extended pole that retracted in front of him. William T. Spears was now standing off to the side, a book in his hand.

"I would not recommend going any further," Spears said.

"Bloody hell, Will!" Grell screeched.

"Dispatch Member Grell Sutcliff, you are hereby guilty of violating your ordinances by killing those not on the list of the dead, second by using a death scythe without having submitted an application for said use."

Grell stood trembling, his mouth dropped open and he looked to protest but stayed silent. Instead he shook his fists by his side. Spears closed his book and stared at him.

"If you surrender yourself now and file an apology and written report, perhaps your own punishment will be light," Spears said. "You are more than welcome to grab that scythe and finish your intended mission right in front of me, though I can assure you the sentence will be much more severe."

Grell looked to the scythe, then to Madam Red. Madam Red gazed at him, her eyes flowing with tears and her voice nothing but choking sobs. Grell stomped the floor with a grunt that sounded for a moment like a sob of his own. He looked positively torn. Grell then stopped and dropped his hands to his sides, taking an audible breath and raising his head. His harried expression was now completely serious.

"I certainly wouldn't want that to happen," Grell said, voice betraying a crack.

Madam Red sobbed harder as Grell fixed a cold glare on her.

"She's not worth the effort," he said.

"For once a reasonable word from you," Spears said.

Spears walked to the side and grabbed Grell's scythe from the floor. He gave Grell one sideways glare as he turned around and walked to the door. Grell only looked to the side before following. He then gave Angelina one last icy glare before turning around and following his superior.

"Well look at this, I might be able to clock out on time," Spears said passing through the door.

Grell followed a step behind him, passing through the door with no looks back. Angelina remained on the floor, eyes glued to the door and more whimpers breaking through.

"Grell," Ciel whispered. "Grell please."

"Please what?" Sebastian said.

Ciel had no response, the tightening in the back of his throat closed off any more words. He only watched his aunt collapse on the floor in a fit of tears. Time seemed to speed up; she gradually calmed and resumed her seated position. Ciel watched as she grew thinner, lines etching her face, her robe getting dirtier. Occasionally a nurse would walk in for a moment and leave. She never moved from the same spot. She was like a statue exposed to the elements; tarnished and worn over time.

At last the progression stopped. A nurse came in with a bowl filled with some sort of stew.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Durless," the nurse said.

Madam Red was like a skeleton now; eyes sunken, bones showing through all exposed flesh. She only looked down at the floor, silent. The nurse dipped a spoon into the bowl and scooped out a small amount.

"Now open wide, you need to eat more," the nurse said.

Angelina weakly opened her mouth and took the spoon. Ciel swung around and covered his eyes.

"I can't take this any longer!" he said.

The shadows swooped in for a moment and cleared to show they were in the hallway.

"It was your wish to see her, I told you it would not be pleasant," Sebastian said. "But I did so as a courtesy to you. Now I myself am rather tired of this game."

Sebastian turned around and walked away. Ciel stood for a moment incredulous.

"What the hell are you doing, get back here now!" Ciel screamed. "This is an order, Sebastian!"

"I am bound to no one, I believe I said as much before."

Sebastian continued to walk. Ciel wanted to run after him, but his legs were practically frozen. Sebastian's form was soon enveloped in shadows and dissipated.

"Sebastian," Ciel called. "Sebastian! Sebastian get me out of here! Sebastian please!"

All that was before him was the cold hallway. His body trembled furiously, barely able to keep himself upright.

"Mission accomplished, Sebastian, I've learned my lesson!"

Ciel fell to his knees, wrapping himself with his arms. Stinging tears poured from his eyes and washed down his cheeks.

"I want to live again!" he said, his voice breaking into breathy sobs. He buried his head in his hands. "I want to live again. Sebastian please, let me live again."

_Next chapter: the conclusion of "The Richest Man in London."_


	4. Part 4

**The Richest Man in London**

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Yana Toboso and Square Enix, Co. Ltd. I don't own them; I just examine all their possibilities. Storyline inspired by "It's a Wonderful Life," directed by Frank Capra.

**Part 4**

Ciel lowered his head further and tapped it against a hard surface, causing him to jump to a full sit. His eyes popped open, suddenly giving him a full view of his study. Ciel sat frozen for a moment, his jaw dropped, he pushed his chair back and jumped to a stand. A fire was going in the fireplace, that damnable tree was still lit in the hallway.

He glanced at the clock on the wall: 7 o'clock, he remembered Sebastian had been there with tea right at 4. He looked down and saw no tray or any traces that it had been there, though there was a clear spot on the desk of the right size for a tray. Ciel turned his head slightly and felt his neck was a bit stiff, his back a little tight too. Had he been sleeping this whole time? Had it all been some dream?

Ciel reached up to his face, his eye patch was still in place. He ran out to the fully lit hallway, practically tripping over the rug on the floor but managing to stop in front of the mirror. He looked at himself in the glass, a shaking hand shooting up and lifting the eye patch. The purple contract mark was still in place. He let out a gasp and replaced the patch, ripping his coat open. He then lifted his shirt, the brand mark was still there. For the first and probably last time, he was actually overjoyed to see it.

A high-pitched giggle caught his attention. He hastily put his shirt back down and looked up to see Elizabeth standing down the hallway covering her mouth with her hands, her face a shade of bright red. She was wearing a nice green dress with plenty of ruffles, small red rose pinned in her hair.

He hastily tucked his shirt back in, eyes glued to her smile and those cheery blue eyes. Whether or not she has seen the mark was only a flickering thought amidst the elation rising up in him. Given her angle, his shirt probably covered it and she didn't seem alarmed.

"Lizzy!" he shouted, practically sprinting to her.

"Sebastian came over and said you were having a party and mother let me come over," she said, running towards him and locking him in a tight embrace. "Oh I just couldn't say no to my Ciel."

Party? Ciel's surprised expression melted to a smirk. That devil. Ciel took another second to savor the embrace, feeling it grow stronger the more he lingered. He gently broke away and buttoned his coat back up. She looked at him curiously with a little smile.

"I nodded off at my desk," he said. "I chafed myself apparently, damn dry air."

"That's why you shouldn't work yourself so hard," Lizzy said.

Ciel smiled and finished the last button, then extended his hand.

"Let us be off, my lady," he said

Lizzy gave another giggle and put her hand in his with a curtsey. What a sight for sore eyes she was right now.

"You are going to be at our party tomorrow night, right?" she asked.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Ciel said.

They walked down the hallway and descended the staircase. The smell of game fowl and roasting cranberries hung in the air with a few different voices coming from downstairs. He heard Sebastian, but recognized another voice as Bard's.

Soma suddenly came into view and ran up the staircase. Lizzy stepped aside and Soma practically tackled him with a pressing hug.

"Such a lovely celebration, you are so generous to have such a wonderful feast," Soma said. "We are so honored to be here!" His words broke into whimpers and Ciel felt hot tears on his shoulder. "Such happiness!"

Ciel actually patted him on the back, seeing Agni come up the stairs and feeling another smile creep in.

"The Earl is a generous man indeed," Agni said putting his hands together and bowing. "We are most honored to take part in this celebration of your holiday."

Soma broke from him and wrapped his arms around Agni.

"This Christmas holiday is truly magnificent," Soma sobbed.

"It certainly is, my prince," Agni said embracing him.

Ciel took a few more steps down the stairs. Undertaker was sitting in a large chair sipping from a glass of wine, Lau looked comfortable on the couch with Ran Mao snuggled up beside him.

"Quite a motley gathering you have here, Earl," Undertaker said with a dirty snicker.

"Oh he always throws the best parties," Lau said.

Ciel's attention was then grabbed by a unison cry of "Young master!"

Finny and Maylene stood up from the table where a gingerbread house sat in progress. Maylene was actually wearing a ruffled red dress and not her usual uniform and Finny wore a brown suit. Tanaka, who was wearing a red stocking cap like Father Christmas, remained in his seat and added a few more gumdrops to the roof. Snake stood to the side and mixed up a new batch of frosting, one of his friends coiled around his upper arm and curiously looking at the bowl.

"This is such a lovely little party," Maylene said. "You're so kind to invite us, young master!"

"Yeah, thank you so much for having us here!" Finny chimed in. "This is brilliant!"

"No, thank you for accepting my invitation," Ciel said. "I hope I haven't kept my company waiting too long."

"Oh not long, my lord, Sebastian brought us here just an hour ago, says Emily," Snake said looking up from the bowl. "And sincerest thanks as well, says Oscar."

Tanaka looked up for a second and Ciel heard a "ho ho ho."

The kitchen door opened and Sebastian walked out in his shirtsleeves wearing a black apron and wiping his hands on a towel, taking care to cover his right hand but Ciel could see part of the outline of his contract mark. Ciel resisted the urge to walk up to him and smack him, but he also tried not to smile. Maybe it had all been a dream, maybe Sebastian had nothing to do with this.

"Ah, enjoy your nap?" Sebastian said, his mouth twisting into a wicked smirk. "I hope it cleared your mind a little."

Ciel frowned for a moment, only to see Sebastian's smile widen.

"It was quite illuminating," Ciel said.

"Excellent," Sebastian said. "A little sleep does wonders for the perspective."

Ciel smirked, he heard all that he needed.

"Quite the little gathering we have here," Ciel said, raising his eyebrows to mark his point.

"Pleased with the arrangements I hope?" Sebastian said.

Ciel paused and took a look around the room, seeing all his impromptu guests in various stages of merrymaking.

"Quite pleased indeed," Ciel said nodding, his smirk firmly in place. "You've outdone yourself, Sebastian,"

Sebastian merely smiled back.

"A Phamtomhive butler who cannot put together a party on Christmas Eve is not worth his salt," he said. "The hens should be done soon."

The door opened and Bard poked his head out.

"The carrots might be a little well done, though," he said before going back in.

"In the meantime, young master, I have fruit and crackers with cheddar out on the coffee table with a pot of hot apple cider," Sebastian said.

Sebastian nodded and returned to the kitchen.

* * *

The hens were absolutely succulent, especially combined with a rich cranberry compote and a soft cornbread stuffing. The carrots were indeed a little well done but a few sprinkles of brown sugar, likely Sebastian's contribution, made them delectable. A steaming bowl of vegetable curry sat on the table and most plates had at least a scoopful. Ciel concentrated on cutting a piece of meat from his hen, though his eyes wandered around the table.

Various conversations had sprouted up. Lau and Agni were exchanging a few words at the moment with Bard occasionally chiming in; something about cuisine. Lizzy was giving Maylene some hair advice. Undertaker practically shoveled down his meal. Snake took some large bites, though occasionally raised a fork of poultry for one of his reptile friends to have a taste.

Ciel was actually enjoying this; what a motley group indeed, but he would have it no other way.

Eventually most of the plates were clean. Sebastian made the rounds to clear them and ask what beverage everyone preferred, walking out soon after to lay down glasses and serve them. Sebastian then poured Ciel a small glass of wine, Ciel raised a dessert fork and tapped it against his glass. All conversations gradually drew to a halt and all eyes were on him. He stood from his seat and raised his glass.

"A toast," he said, seeing everyone raise their respective glasses. "To friends and loved ones, here and passed on. May we savor the joys and lessons of each person in our lives."

Ciel raised his glass higher. Glasses clinked against each other around the table with a few "here-here's" added.

Tanaka then slowly rose from his seat, everyone quieted and looked in his direction.

"If I may, my lord," he said.

Ciel nodded in his direction, Tanaka nodded back and raised his glass.

"There are many riches a man can amass in a lifetime and not all of them gold," Tanaka said. "A man who is truly blessed with good friends and good times is a wealthy man indeed." He raised his glass higher. "To Earl Phantomhive, the richest man in London."

Everyone raised their glasses with respective calls of affirmation. Ciel felt his cheeks grow hot, but couldn't hold back a smile.

* * *

The piano in the lounge had not been used in about a year. Ciel was taking lessons, but was usually too busy in London to practice at the townhouse. At last, Lizzy was the first to take the keys; the first notes of "Hark the Herald" rang out. Most of the servants were singing along, even Undertaker joined in and Soma clumsily hummed with the tune.

Ciel stood near the doorway watching the whole scene.

"Is the young master pleased with his evening?" Sebastian said behind him.

Ciel slowly turned toward him.

"My applause, Sebastian," he said. "A magnificent performance."

"My apologies if parts of it were a bit rough," Sebastian said. "Though your demeanor has changed nicely, if I may say so."

"It was a little forward, though effective," Ciel said back. "The party itself was indeed lovely. As for the part before, I would rather not have that repeated."

"Understood."

"I do not regret my course, mind you. In fact it has reminded me why I walk this path."

"I am pleased to see my master so reinvigorated."

Ciel turned his gaze back to the party, running over a decision he made earlier. He debated whether or not to carry it out, but he was in a good enough mood now.

"Sebastian I have one more task for you," Ciel said.

"My lord?"

"You must follow my instructions exactly. It might be a bit difficult even for you, but I trust your abilities. It will be a bit unpleasant."

Ciel threw a wicked smirk in Sebastian's direction.

* * *

Nigel Cooper came from a working class family. He married at 18, had a bunch of kids, and did little more with his long life than run a small tailoring shop. This by far had to be the most boring Cinematic Record Grell had encountered in a long time.

He leaned on his death scythe and watched the reel play.

"_God rest ye merry gentlemen, may nothing you dismay_," he started singing. "_Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day_."

He heard a few footsteps and the soft squeak of a small set of wheels come in his direction.

"I bloody hate working on Christmas Eve," Ronald Knox said.

"Well, death doesn't take a holiday," Grell replied, then continued singing; his upper tenor moving into a soprano. "_To save us all from Satan's power when we were gone astray. Good tidings of comfort and joy_…"

"How in blazes can you reach that note?" Ronald said. "You don't have to squeeze anything do you?"

Grell finished the verse and smiled. Fortunately the reel was coming to the part when Nigel Cooper dropped dead of a clogged artery on the back steps of his shop while taking out the garbage.

"Talent, Ron, pure talent."

"For the sake of your bits, I hope so."

Grell chuckled as the reel finished. He looked down at his ledger and pressed the "completed" stamp down on the old man's record before glancing over a Ronald, seeing him leaning on the handle of his scythe.

"You got any more after this one?" Ronald said.

"Fortunately no, last one for the night."

"The girls in the office are having a little fete around now, care to join me?"

Grell put his ledger back in his red coat.

"Oh that would be delightful," he said. "A little holiday cheer sounds good."

A sudden chill came over both of them. They looked up to see a black figure jumping across the rooftops; getting a brief glimpse of glowing purple eyes.

"Demon, bloody hell," Ron said taking full grip on the handle.

The figure stood on one rooftop, giving both a clear view of Sebastian Michaelis looking right at them and bowing. Grell let out a yelp and covered his mouth with his hand. Sebastian then hopped to another roof.

"Sebastian!" Grell cried, grabbing his scythe and leaping high to the lower eaves of a roof. "My Romeo awaits!"

Ronald followed right behind him from rooftop to rooftop. Grell landed on the roof Sebastian had been on and hastily looked around.

"Sebastian darling," he called out, running across the roof. "Wherefore art thou, beautiful tyrant."

Sebastian was no where to be found, but he saw a red-wrapped package on the side of the roof adorned with a green bow. Grell gave a heaving sigh in disappointment and hopped over to the package.

"Now what did my true love give to me," Grell said, putting his scythe to the side and picking up the box.

He lifted the paper tag: "To: Grell Sutcliff" it read. Grell practically ripped off the bow and tore into the paper.

"You sure you want to do that," Ron said. "He's a tricky fellow."

The wrapping fell to the shingles, revealing a light wooden box. He opened the box and peeled out the tissue paper. At last he exposed a pair of black leather gloves with red lace on the bottoms, pearly red buttons on the sides. He paused and looked at them, slowly taking them from the box. He ripped off his own gloves and put on the new ones, they were a perfect fit with the right amount of flexibility.

A large bar of chocolate in pink paper sat underneath, the crowned cat logo of the Funtom Company especially sticking out. His attention turned to a card at the bottom of the box imprinted with a holly wreath, his fingers prying it out and opening it.

_Dear Grell,_

_I wish you a Merry Christmas and a most Happy New Year. May business be lacking for you today and may you get a moment for peaceful celebration._

_Sincerely,_

_Ciel, Earl Phantomhive_

_P.S. Sebastian also sends his sincerest greetings._

Grell stared at the words for a moment, a smile creeping across his face. He didn't know what to make of this at first but he couldn't help but feel a little tickled. How thoughtful of the brat; perhaps this was an olive branch of sorts though he couldn't give the kid too much credit.

"That's awful nice of him," Ronald said.

"Indeed," Grell said with a smile.

The chimes of Big Ben sounded over the city. Grell and Ronald both looked up at the majestic tower in the distance; midnight exactly. Ronald put a hand on Grell's shoulder.

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Sutcliff," he said.

Grell patted his hand.

"Happy Christmas to you too, Ronnie."

**THE END**

**Author's note:** A huge thanks to everyone who has read and provided feedback on this story**. **Happy Holidays to all of you!**  
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